


You're a Disk Jockey?

by scumfuck



Category: IT 2017
Genre: AU, Eddie Kaspbrak - Freeform, M/M, Reddie, Richie Tozier - Freeform, They're grown up, adult au, eddie's a bus driver, let me know if you like this!, reddie au, richie and eddie, richie is a dj, takes place when they're about 26?? so circa 2002, that doesn't really matter though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:34:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scumfuck/pseuds/scumfuck
Summary: Eddie hesitated (he looked so peaceful!) before nudging the man. He wanted to get home, god damnit, he was a cranky New Yorker.The sleeping one grumbled a bit, curling farther into his guitar (or whatever it was) and the uncomfortable bus seats. His mouth was then propped open a bit, lips parted ever so slightly, breathing a little lighter."Hey," Eddie whispered. He didn't want to whisper. He wanted to wake him up. "Wake up.""Five more minutes, ma," he whined. Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.





	You're a Disk Jockey?

Swerve to the right. Left lane now. Brake- then, stop sign. He sighed and looked at the mirror above him that reflected all of the people sitting on his bus. There were only a couple stops left, thank god, and then he'd be done for the night. 

He hated driving the bus, especially in the city. People would look at him funny when they got on. Sort of a, "You're too much of a twink to be driving an NJ Transit bus, who the fuck are you?". He wanted so badly to just flip them off, or something, but that wouldn't be a good samaritan's first choice.

He thought he was a nice driver. He greeted people with an almost there smile and when they left he said "Have a good night!" He wasn't as cheery as he wished he was, but that didn't matter. He's had worse bus drivers than himself. 

The last person left the bus and grumbled a thank you as they lugged a suitcase over their back. They were in Newark now, and Eddie was ready to turn off the back lights and drive back to Port Authority, and finally go home to his NYC apartment. 

He took off his headphones, and reached over to flick off the switch, when he heard heavy breathing. _Snoring. Oh god._

He parked the bus on the side of the road. He didn't really need to, honestly, it was the dead of night and there weren't many cars out anyway. He stood up and pressed his feet down the carpeted aisle, and there, in the back of the bus, was a sleeping man. He was young, probably about Eddie's age, with pale skin and dark curls. Glasses were propped inside the collar of his shirt, and his head was leaning on a giant guitar case, his cheek pressing painfully into it. 

Eddie hesitated _, he looked so peaceful,_ before nudging the man. He wanted to get home, god damnit, he was a cranky New Yorker. 

The sleeping one grumbled a bit, curling farther into his guitar (or whatever it was) and the uncomfortable bus seats. His mouth was then propped open a bit, lips parted ever so slightly, breathing a little lighter. 

"Hey," Eddie whispered. He didn't want to whisper. He wanted to wake him up. "Wake up." 

"Five more minutes, ma," he whined. Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. 

"If this is some stupid fuckin' game, I really don't wanna be a part of it," he snarled, and there it was! His cranky New Yorker alter ego had overruled the once nice and dandy Maine resident. "I've been driving this bus since five o'clock and not one person has smiled at me all day, I am fuckin' exhausted and I wanna go home!" 

The man sat up with a jolt at the sudden raise of volume in Eddie's voice. He looked around the empty bus with caution, before glancing up at Eddie. 

"Holy shit! I'm so sorry," he scrambled for his glasses and shoved them onto his nose. Then he looked back at Eddie and his eyes widened. "Wow," he breathed. 

Eddie was irritated. "What?" 

The man grinned obnoxiously, and he was probably from New Jersey or something, cause he was being a real douche bag right now. "How could anyone not smile at you!" 

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed. "What the fuck are you talking about?" 

"You're adorable! I mean, look at you," the man gestured at his posture, and Eddie in turn looked at himself in the glare of the plexiglass windows. "You're like, small, and mad. If you were a dog you'd be a chihuahua." 

Eddie felt his ears burn up. He bit his tongue, but accidentally let, "Shut the fuck up!" spill out. He mumbled a sorry, but the other didn't seem to really mind, because he just laughed. 

"See! That's so cute!"

Eddie tapped his foot against the bus floor and looked down at the guy's guitar case. "Listen, we're in Newark right now, so unless you wanna be dragged back to Port Authority with me, I-" 

"I would love to." 

"What?" 

The man's lips turned up at the corners, baring his teeth again. "I'd love to be dragged back to Port Authority with you," he repeated. 

Eddie uncrossed his arms and then crossed them again. "That- that wasn't an actual option! I said that as a rhetorical question, I-" Eddie paused, rolled his eyes. "God. You're infuriating," he mumbled.

"I get that a lot! Along with, 'Your music sucks,' and 'Hey! I'm walkin' here!'" he laughed to himself and plucked at a loose string at the guitar case. 

"What, you're in a band?" Eddie asked. He didn't actually care, really, but whatever. They were already making small talk.

"I'm a disk jockey. I crash people's parties and play the music they want. On occasion, I'll go underground and deal some sess', but we keep that hush-hush." He winked and Eddie felt his neck heat up. "Wanna talk more about it? Over coffee, maybe?" 

Eddie blinked. "Is this a joke?" He had a defensive tone in his voice. No one had asked Eddie out since college, and even then, his last boyfriend had cheated on him with a girl. Trust issues weren't fun.

The man frowned. "No," he said, his eyebrows furrowed. 

"Oh..." Eddie cringed internally. Who was the douche now? "Then. Fine. But I need to drive you home. Like, not... Not now, I wanna go home. Where do you live?" 

The other grinned again. "Elizabeth. Not too far from here," he answered. 

Eddie nodded, and stomped away to the head of the bus again. The stranger followed him, the guitar heaved over his back and a too-bright smile on his face. New Jersians were weird. 

It took a while for either to say anything as Eddie started the machine back up again, steadily getting back into the driving mode. When he was cruising, he looked over at the man through his peripheral vision. He was staring at him. 

"So," Eddie coughed. "Why do you have a guitar, then? If you're a... DJ."

"I play in the subways for extra money sometimes. Earned a good five dollars today!" he exclaimed, and Eddie almost laughed. 

"What stuff do you play?" The man shuffled closer to him from the closest seat to the driver's. Eddie would have let him, but his instincts told him not to. "Behind the yellow line, by the way," he pointed to the line separating the back from the front, "Sorry. Bus driver stuff." 

The man nodded, his curls bouncing. "I play, uh. Mostly indie stuff. The occasional Smash Mouth." 

Eddie snorted. It was 2002, what the fuck was wrong with this guy.

"Just for shits and giggles," he assured Eddie. His voice was proud that Eddie had laughed. "I can play you some, if you'd like." 

"God, no Smash Mouth, please," he begged. The man laughed as he unzipped the case.

"I won't, promise." When the guitar was out and resting on his lap, he plucked a few cords. "What's your name again?" 

Eddie focused on the road, but answered anyway. "Eddie." 

The man strummed a chord and sang. "Eddie!" His voice was tremendously off pitch. "Eddie, the spaghetti!" He strummed again, his voice imitating a country singers, maybe, or the guy from Green Day. Eddie couldn't tell, but laughed anyway. 

"You drive me hoooome! And I love you... For thaaaatt!" 

Eddie laughed again, and Elizabeth was the next stop, and he didn't want to drop off this guy, but he had to. 

"Okay, okay! That's enough," Eddie giggled out as the man strummed over and over again. 

"I was almost at the bridge!"

Eddie smiled as he pulled up at the stop.

The sound of the zipper was the only one on the bus for a moment. Then the man stood up and crossed the yellow line, and Eddie looked down at his feet. They wore beat up black Doc Marten's, paired with mismatched colorful socks. Eddie smiled again. 

Then, he was being greeted with a small card. He took it and stared up at the tall guy, and holy shit, he was tall. 

"My 'business info'," he held up air quotations. "My number's on there. You should call me, and we can get that coffee." 

Eddie blushed at the smoothness of it all. Though, it wasn't really smooth, it just felt like that in the moment because he was delirious off of lack of sleep and it distorted his reality. 

He couldn't really tell anyone what happened next, but in a jiffy, there was a warm hand that held his jaw and pulled him into a kiss. It was gentle. His lips tingled and his eyelashes fluttered closed as he pressed up into the man. When he pulled back, he was left breathless. He squeaked out a small, "Oh!", and blinked big brown eyes up at the handsome man. 

"I'm Richie, by the way," he winked again, and Eddie was stunned. He watched as Richie exited the bus, giving him a salute as a goodbye wave, and walked down the street with a heavy case on his back. 

"Shit," Eddie muttered. 

His lips tasted like cigarettes and coffee and he kept licking over them. He was afraid he'd crash the bus, or something. 

"Shit, shit, shit," he repeated to himself, smiling wide and bright and the only genuine smile he's had since college, probably, he didn't know. Fuck. 

That was one of the best nights of his life, and he didn't even know it was happening until it was over. 

He blinked down at the card Richie gave him and laughed. Surely enough, there was his name. In askew printed black letters: 

**Richie Tozier**

**Freelance Disk Jockey**

**NYC and NJ**

**Call me or FAX me:**

Eddie just laughed. This was unbelievable. He just landed a date with a fucking DJ, who probably did more weed dealing than actual music playing, and fell asleep on the back of his bus. 

"Shit," Eddie giggled for the last time that night, and held the card to his chest as he drove into Port Authority with the hugest grin plastered over his face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda liked the idea of Eddie being a taxi driver but thought it would be more modern (like the It 2017 version) if he were a bus driver. so i made him a bus driver. i also thought it'd be funny if richie couldn't afford living in nyc so he lived in new jersey instead.
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> EDIT!!: i copied my fics on here to my It sideblog on tumblr. the url is scumschmuck, you can follow me there and if you'd like :)


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